Right in Your Back Yard

©2008 by: Riley

He’d held it together, kept it quiet and managed to look normal, handle his work efficiently and control crime in Mystery for almost three months. But that morning, as he flipped through his mail he knew he’d reached his limit.

There it was, right along with all the other official sheriff’s correspondence. The divorce decree. Jesus, fucking Christ! He stomped to his door and slammed it shut, clearly aware that everyone out there knew something was up. John Biebe never closed his door. He counted to ten and the expected tap came.

“What!” he shouted.

“Everything okay, Sheriff?”

“Yeah,” he lied, fingering the still sealed envelope. “She promised,” he hissed quietly. “She said give her a few months, things would be fine. She just needed a little space. Space, my ass!”

He tore the envelope and read. “Indignities? She’s fucking filing indignities against me?” He reached for his coat and shoved the document into his pocket. “We’ll see about that, ay.”

Not a word to any of the officers watching him charge out. He drove to the house. “Fuck all this shit! I get thrown out of my own fucking house; sleep in the damn cabin for ninety goddamn days for this? What happened to all that shit about counseling and talking it through? Nah, this ain’t going down the way she wants it to.” He was shouting at the dashboard by the time he reached the house.

He walked to the door and turned the knob. Locked. His own house and it was locked? He fumbled with the keys, slammed the door against the mud room wall on the way in and shouted. “Ain’t happening, Donna! Ain’t fucking happening!”

Silence. The kind of silence he could feel in the pit of his gut. He looked around.

Jesus, the place was a mess! Dirty dishes in the sink, cabinet doors all opened. It wasn’t ‘til he reached the living room that his step slowed. The shelves, they were all empty. Just a few strategically left behind items that were obviously his. He climbed the steps. The beds were stripped, closets empty. He dropped onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair. What went through his head shocked and surprised him. He wasn’t wondering about Donna, about where she went or if she was okay…all he wanted to know was…where the hell were his boys?

“What the fuck is she thinking? She can’t just take my kids. She can’t. She just can’t.”

~*~

The mayor had his ice fishing shack. Judge Burns, he had his private chambers. Tree had his garage where he tinkered with old engines. John…he had the hunting cabin. They all had a place all their own, completely male and far from their women. A place to get away from the formalities of marriage, a place where there was peace, the kind a man needs to keep his sanity.

John couldn’t stay in the empty house. He remained in the cabin, continued to sleep on the lumpy old mattress with a mountain of frayed blankets and a pillow that was as flat as a pancake. At first he did his best, kept up with his life and used all his resources to locate his family with no results. He finally hired a lawyer. He was this close to hiring a private detective when the call came from Donna. Almost a month had passed. She’d taken the boys down to the lower forty eight. They were staying with some of her friends in Seattle…and here’s the best…she met a man.

“So, what the fuck’s that gotta do with anything, Donna?” he spat into the receiver. “You send my boys back.”

“John, be reasonable. I’ve put them in school here and they’re finally acting normal again.”

“Normal? What the hell’s normal about this? I want my boys here, at home, in their own school.”

“John,” her voice gave that irritated sigh he hated more than anything.

“Listen, lady. You got every right to make your own choices. You wanted to end our marriage without even making the least effort to save it, fine. Just fucking fine. But those boys didn’t make this choice. I want my sons where I can spend time with them.”

“John, John, calm down. I know you miss them, I really do. I understand. But they need me more than you right now.”

“I can make this happen, Donna,” he growled.

“Please John. Don’t use your legal, political muscles against me. Let them finish the school year. I’ll send them to you for the summer. We’ll work this all out. I’m sorry I hurt you. I just couldn’t take it any more.”

John took a glare at the receiver. “Hurt me? No sweetheart. You didn’t hurt me. I don’t care anymore. But my kids…damn you, Donna. Don’t you fucking hurt them, keeping them away from me like I’m some kinda fucking monster! They’re mine.”

“Yes they are. They love you and they miss you and I’ve already promised them they’d be coming up to be with you this summer.”

“And I’m supposed to trust you? That’s a promise like the last…what…three hundred you made me? Nah, watch your mail. Court orders are heading your way…Donna.” And he slammed the phone down, walked out of his office and didn’t return for six solid weeks.

~*~

On the second Saturday he was MIA, the guys had to admit it, things were obviously worse for John than they’d thought. They sat around the locker room after the game, looking at each other and wondering who was going to start the conversation. Biebe was no longer playing in the Saturday games, but they all knew they could count on him to be on the sidelines, shouting his own form of coaching and cheering them on. It would take an act of God, severe illness or the incidence of a rare, serious crime to keep him away. They’d all played horribly, proving how much his presence meant to the team.

Tree finally stood, walked right up to their newest player, an officer who worked with John and might have the inside scoop. “Where’s Johnnie?”

Stan shrugged, glanced around and several of the men gathered closer, creating a conspicuous huddle. All heads leaned in. “No clue. My guess, still at that cabin, ay?”

“What the hell did she do to him?” Skank whined, rubbing his aching neck.

Heads leaned in even tighter as Stan spoke. “What I hear is, she filed indignities against him.”

“Indignities?” several repeated, eyeing each other.

Stan continued in a near whisper. “She filed for divorce, saying John treated her bad…indignities…get it?”

“No!” shouted Tree. “It’s a lie; John was always good to Donna! She won’t get the divorce, she lied…right?”

“Don’t quite work that way,” Skank groaned. After all, he was in the dead center of his own nasty divorce. Sera Heinz-Marden had had enough. “The fact that she filed is all that matters. But fuck, he was always good to her.”

“Too good,” another piped up. “My wife said Donna did almost nothing, John took care of everything, even the house stuff, the dishes and laundry, shit like that. Katie said Donna was a real slouch, ay.”

“Yeah,” grumped Tree. “But Katie hates Donna. Not like we all don’t know that.”

“Well,” Stan grumbled, standing to pull on his jeans. “Not like I like Donna all that much right now either.”

Tree began to pace. “So what’re we gonna do about this?”

“About what?” Skank tied the laces of his boot and glared up. “Maybe John’s just gotta get through this his own way. She took the kids, ya know. That’s gotta be killing him.”

“We gotta do something,” Tree bellowed and they all nodded, even those not close in the conversation.

“Yeah!” the shout rose.

“So,” Tree’s face went blank. “What’re we gonna do?”

~*~

He paced, he drank, ate little and slept less. He only chopped wood when he was out of it, and he had no fucking clue what day of the week it was. The bad news just kept rolling in. Occasionally he’d listen to messages left on his cell phone, but only answered when the call was from his lawyer. It didn’t go well.

No, Donna had no right to take the boys out of the state, but of course, John had no intention of pressing kidnapping charges. It would never fly, anyway. After all, he had the address, had confirmed that all three kids were in fact registered and attending school and there was no restriction from him going down to see them. The problem was…John wasn’t sure he’d be able to leave them there. He knew, in his state of mind, if he flew to Seattle his boys were flying back with him…and there would be the real kidnapping charge.

Shuematt, his attorney had adamantly advised him to sit tight. Donna was proving a fit and responsible mother and the fight might get uglier than he wanted his children to know about. No judge was going to disrupt those kids’ lives again just to appease John’s need for revenge. He didn’t argue that it wasn’t revenge; that he just wanted to have his sons close to him. The fucking legal system wasn’t interested in that one bit. So again, John had no options. It sucked, big time. And he wasn’t dealing with it well at all.

Shuematt suggested therapy, which John laughed bitterly at. He suggested that John go back to work, which John tried, he just couldn’t get his depressed ass out of bed. He even suggested that John simply get laid. When John slammed the cell phone shut on that idea, he broke the damn thing. It soared across the cabin and shattered into a dozen pieces against the old Chambers stove. So now, there were no more stupid fucking suggestions, and no more communication with the outside world.

As he swung the ax, splitting more wood than he might need for a week, John stopped, scratched his chin through a thick, unruly beard and thought. Eventually he’d wake up and want to move ahead. Eventually. He lifted the ax again and grunted as it slammed a log into two. Eventually, just not now.

That afternoon, he checked his beer supply and decided he needed to get roaring drunk. Halfway into that plan, there was a knock at the door.

“Go away!”

“Come on, Johnnie. Open up.” It was Tree.

In three wobbly strides, John reached the door and swung it opened. Crisp air, cold enough to make a mad man sober, brushed over him without effect. “Go away, Tree.”

“John, come on out with me,” he nudged his chin toward his old Ford pickup. “Some of the guys are gonna meet us a Hank’s Pub. Come on.”

John leaned closer, spoke softly. “Tree, leave me alone.”

Tree forced a smile. “Come on, you know you miss us all. We’ll get you as drunk as a skunk, then take you home and pour you into your own bed…in your own house.”

“This is my house! And that is my bed!” John swept his arm behind him. “Now… get… the… fuck… outta here!” And he slammed the door, not feeling the least bit guilty until two days later when he remembered the incident.

~*~

Dark, heavy clouds were gathering on the horizon. John had used his rifle, shot himself an elk, but not so proud of the animal he’d bagged. He spotted it, munching something it had nuzzled from under the deep snow, not fifteen yards from the front door. It looked up when he walked out for wood and was still there when he returned with the weapon. The thing was so old, it was nearly all grey; would probably be stringy as hell and inedible. But on the bright side, John had actually moved that day, actually ventured out of the cabin. When he walked inside to gather his skinning knife to butcher his dubious feast, he could smell the fact that he’d been holed up there a fucking long time.

He pushed windows opened and left the door wide then dragged his elk around back and worked. The snow was falling heavily before he finished, but he had skinned and butchered what he needed. He’d deal with the remainders of the carcass tomorrow. More than a foot had fallen. Good thing he had enough wood.

Inside, the snow had fallen too, blowing into the door and windows, piling neatly on the floor and chairs. Ah well, not the first time. It was a hunting cabin. His place and he didn’t care. He swept the mess away and cooked his meal, then climbed onto the lumpy bed. It wasn’t even dark out yet, but these days, John ate when he wanted and slept when he felt like. Again he wondered when he’d get the urge to move on. Those thoughts triggered tears he hadn’t shed yet. He’d been mad as hell, broken things, shouted and gotten himself blind drunk. But he hadn’t cried yet.

The loss of his sons cut a gorge right through his heart and he began to speculate how much of his intense need to hold his marriage together had anything whatsoever to do with loving Donna. When, in fact, was the last time he was really sure he loved her? Do people just stop loving their wives? Part of his issue was that he never thought he’d be one of those statistics. He really believed that he’d be the exception, the marriage that would last forever. Not.

He fell asleep, his crappy pillow and scruffy beard soaked with his tears and his body, exhausted. When he woke, he was stiff and achy. Dull, late afternoon light was drifting into the windows and he stretched with a groan, scratched his jewels and made a decision he hadn’t made in days. Shower.

He stood under the steaming spray for a long time, thought about shaving the beard but didn’t have the patience to deal with it. He pulled on a pair of fresh sweats and decided he wanted coffee. A fairly simple task seemed unusually complex. All the dry goods he’d bought weeks ago were still in bags. He had to locate the coffee, drag his old coffee maker from one of the cabinets, fill the pot and push the button…so why did it take so long he felt like he not only no longer wanted it,  but he was fucking tired again.

He jumped to the sudden, abrupt sound of pounding on his door. Almost dark outside the window. “What the fuck?”

Standing tall and grinning ear to ear was Mandy. “Hi there, John.”

“Go away, Amanda,” John grunted in his official way.

“Can’t,” she smiled and stretched her neck to see past him into the cabin.

“What do you mean, can’t?”

She shrugged. “Can’t. I think one of your idiot hockey buddies siphoned my gas tank. Ran out two miles down the road.” She shrugged again. “The snowmobile is kaput.”

“What? Jesus Christ. You aren’t staying here.”

“Ah, John.” She pushed past him and inside. “You don’t really intend to send me out to walk ten miles all the way to Mystery in the dark. And…” she glared into his eyes. “You’re obviously in no condition to drive me home, so I don’t think we have a choice here.” She tugged off her toque and her long, silky golden hair cascaded down around her shoulders.

“Mandy. You can not stay here. God sakes, I’m the fucking sheriff.” At least he thought he was still the sheriff. When was the last time he saw his office, anyway?

“Yes,” she dragged the zipper of her parka down. “You’re the town sheriff and I’m the town hooker.”

His face went pale as a ghost and she laughed.

“Hey,” she stepped close, ran a finger along his full beard. “Look on the bright side. No one knows I’m here except you and me…and about ten of your closest friends.”

“I’m not letting you stay here.” He blinked, rubbed his aching temple. “It ain’t right.”

“What?” her pretty dark eyes batted. “Aren’t you the Sheriff John Biebe who had stood in front of the judge with me and pointed out that I’m really not a hooker? The one who stated that I’ve never once asked for money? That there were no grounds for my arrests? Just the consenting act of two, mature adults?”

John closed the door, his forehead thudded against it several times and his wet hair drooped into his face. “This isn’t good. This is not good,” he groaned. When he turned, she was pouring herself a mug of coffee. “By the way,” he tilted a glared from beneath his brows. “Something I always wanted to ask you.”

“Shoot.”

“Why is it that you end up with money after some of those…consenting acts?”

“No clue, John. One day about eight years ago, Benny Farmington walked out of my house and left fifty bucks on my dresser. He told someone else who told someone else…you get the drift. I never asked for a nickel. And trust me, if I wanted to, there’s not enough hooker business in all of Mystery to keep a girl in bargain basement toiletries. You know I’m no prostitute, I know it, and so does everyone else.”

“You’re a hooker if you take money.” He finally lowered to a chair and sipped from his own mug.

“I keep trying to give it back,” she grinned.

“I’m not fucking you.”

“Good, because I have no intention of fucking you either.”

“So, what the hell are you doing here?”

“I didn’t take any money to come here, if that’s your question.”

John swallowed coffee and nearly choked. “No, no. Of course not. Jesus, Mandy. What are you doing here?” She was right, of all the people in Mystery, he knew damn well she was not a prostitute, and he had stood in her defense…more than once.

“I’m worried about you, just like the rest of the town. I came to make sure you’re okay. Gotta admit, gave me a scare when I saw that blood at the clearing.”

He shook his head, waved it off. “Elk. I’m not so fucking far gone I’d…” His mind drifted. Was he sure he wasn’t that far gone?

“Anyway, I came by to talk, see how you are. If there’s anything you need.” He gave her another glare and she grinned wide. “For free, of course.”

“I’m fine.”

Her hand slid across the table and settled over his. It was cold as hell and he pulled away, went to the fireplace, threw on a few more logs and stoked it up. “What if I don’t want to talk about it?”

“Then we can talk about something else, John. Whatever you want.”

Oh, an opportunity to not think about himself and his problems. Sounded promising. He topped off his mug and settled across from her. “Okay, then I wanna talk about you. A few things have always confused me. Feel like spilling some beans, Amanda?”

“Sure,” she shrugged out of her coat, flipped her locks behind her shoulders and curled her stocking feet under her legs. “But there are rules to this, you know.”

“What rules? They’re just questions.”

“Ahh,” she sighed, reached for one of his full grocery bags on the nearby counter, rummaged through and came up with a bag of Oreo cookies. “There are always rules. First off, you only get four questions.”

“Why four.”

“I like the number four,” she crunched into a cookie.

“Fair enough.”

“Second rule, for every question you ask, I have to answer honestly…but…”

He reached into the torn Oreo package. It crackled as he took a fistful. “But what?”

“I get to ask a question and you have to answer honestly. Not like that’ll be hard for you, being the sheriff and all.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunted through a full mouth.

“And third, no judgmental attitudes from either of us. I absolutely hate that shit.”

“No judgmental attitude? Not sure I can do that, being the sheriff and all,” he grinned, his teeth covered with chocolate.

“Well, try.”

“Any more rules?”

“Nope. You first.”

He leaned back, eyed her carefully. Mandy was a beauty. She could have been a movie star if she tried; a model at least. Tall and lithe, graceful with perfect features and a body to match. There wasn’t a man he knew who hadn’t wondered about her, and many who had taken the shot to find out, some who’d even left a few bucks on her dresser. Skank was one of them. Of course, no one ever really believed a word Skank said about that night. But one thing always stuck in John’s memory. Skank said he was so grateful for the chance to get it on with the likes of Amanda, he felt compelled to leave her something. Of course Skank, with a wife and twins at home had no cash to speak of and little to give. He left her the keys to his snowmobile…the one that was currently kaput…along with his marriage.

She certainly was something to look at, but what he wanted to ask had little to do with that. He cleared his throat. “Okay. First question. How long have you known Donna?”

“Donna? I thought you didn’t want to talk about your troubles.”

“It’s not about my troubles, Mandy. I got a direction with this questioning,” he grinned sadly, his head tilted and drying hair dropped a curtain over his eyes. “Just answer.”

“I can be as elaborate with my answers as I want, right?”

“You make the rules.”

She stood and they both went and sat on the ratty old sofa. “Okay, I think I met Donna in sixth or seventh grade. I was skinny and ugly, had pimples and braces and she was fucking gorgeous. All the boys were nuts for her, especially Charlie. By the time we got to high school, he’d finally won her favor, my braces came off…oh…and not one of the girls in our class liked her one bit. She was cold and aloof. Kinda mean and rude. But then again, she was the homecoming queen, the prom queen and voted most likely to succeed. Of course in Mystery, Alaska, most likely to succeed for a girl meant most likely to get married.

“Charlie went away to college. She did some home junior college courses, but I guess that didn’t get her the kind of rah rah satisfaction she liked, so she quit. And one more thing. Flash forward…at nineteen, Donna and I were the only two girls from our class of sixty who were still unmarried or without viable prospects. She was still beautiful, but I wasn’t too bad either, so she never liked me much anyway. Well, she had reasons, but I won’t go into those…unless you ask the right question.”

John blinked. Not that he was expecting short, blunt answers, but he certainly wasn’t expecting a dissertation either. This could be a long fucking night.

“My turn, John. My question is, why?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you want to know how long I’ve known Donna.”

“I dunno.”

“Is that the honest truth.”

“The honest fucking truth.”

“Alrighty then. You’ve got three more questions.”

He shifted on the sofa, pulled his knee up and turned to face her. “What’s the right question? What were Donna’s reasons for not liking you?”

“Besides the fact that she wanted to believe I was a whore?”

John tilted a glower.

“Okay, okay,” Mandy sighed. “Confession time. You. You’re the reason. I mean, there we were, Donna had a broken heart because her Charlie was so far away. I was waiting on tables at Hank’s Pub; she was a file clerk in the Sheriff’s office. We had no prospects whatsoever. Stuck in a real dead end named Mystery…and in strolls this new cop. John Biebe. He’s gorgeous and capable. Everyone likes him before he even spouts a word and well, we both kinda fell head over heels for him. Voila…hate between women.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“What? Your wife never told you that the town hooker once had a thing for you? Go figure.” Mandy took the mug from his hand and padded into the kitchen to refill it. “My question to you, and this time I get more than a two word answer…”

Amazingly, she returned with his coffee exactly as he liked it. Black with a teaspoon of sugar. How did she know that? “Okay, I’m listening.”

“How does what I told you make you feel?”

“You a fucking shrink?”

“Nope. Answer the question.”

“Well, I honestly don’t know how it makes me feel. I mean, I’m seven years older than you and Donna. I came to Mystery to play hockey. I wasn’t looking for a wife. I wasn’t even looking to date. Just lost my shot at pro hockey, just got over a bad breakup and well, I can’t remember much about either of you when I first arrived. I do recall the guys talking about you at Hank’s. And I remember Donna, hell yeah, I remember Donna. She was always smiling and always getting me coffee. She just never got it right. And I mean never once got it right…”

“Black, one sugar. I never forgot. You ordered it twice from me at the pub.”

John ginned. “Did I?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, I guess I’m flattered. I didn’t know you were interested. But I do remember you disappearing, just leaving town and no one knew why. Your dad left with you, he didn’t come back for a few months.”

“Yeah,” her eyes dropped. “So you had no idea why I left?”

John shrugged. “Speculation was, well…unwanted pregnancy…something like that.”

“Unlikely, John.” She leaned close and whispered. “I was a virgin until I was twenty-two.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Huh,” John scratched his chin. “Where did you go?”

“That’s your third question. You sure you want to waste it on this?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Where’d you go?”

She slouched deep into the sofa, her long legs stretched out, ankles crossed. Her hands clasped tight at her waist and that was the only sign John could read that told him she was uncomfortable. She cleared her throat then sighed.

“You don’t have to tell me, you know.”

“Sure I do, it’s the rules. You’re just the first person ever to ask me this. Most simply assumed I was off having an illegitimate child I put up for adoption.”

Again she fell silent and John reached over, pushed her long hair back so that he could see her face. “Where’d you go?”

“I was sick, John. I kept getting weaker and weaker, passing out. That’s why I lost my job at the pub; I could hardly get up to go to work. Doc Wilson did some tests. Dad took me down to City of Hope Hospital in California. See…I wasn’t pregnant…I had leukemia…”

“Jesus,” he gasped.

“I was treated, actually stayed in California for two years for follow ups and treatments. Then just stuck around doing odd jobs.”

She turned to face him fully and John felt his heart would break. All those years she’d kept that secret. All those years! His hand reached for hers and their fingers intertwined. “You’re okay now?”

“I’ve been in remission for several years. I could be one of the lucky ones, make it all the way to old age before it rears its ugly head again.” She blinked, forced a grin. “Now aren’t you pissed that you wasted your third question on that?”

“No,” he leaned in, kissed her cheek. “No, I’m glad. You never told anyone?”

“Nope, and I made my dad promise never to tell anyone. I know it was hard for him, I know he heard what everyone was saying, but he kept his promise. The only reason I came back to Mystery three years ago was because he died. I suddenly felt like I owed him something. Like I owed Mystery something. He loved this town. John, I miss him.”

“Fuck, Amanda. I miss Bailey too. We all miss him.”

She nodded. “My turn. How are you really doing?”

“Not good.” He dropped back, leaned his head onto the sofa armrest and groaned. “This fucking sucks. I guess I just didn’t expect it. I miss my boys, Mandy.”

“God sakes, I bet you do. But it’ll all work out.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

She smiled. “Because I learned a long time ago; everything works out the way it’s supposed to. Your last question?”

“My last question? Let’s see. Why are you still in Mystery?”

“Oh, now there’s a big one. Um, well. See, at first, after dad was buried, I thought I was sticking around to take care of his affairs. Sell the house. Enjoy the nostalgia of my old home town, stuff like that. I had full intentions of leaving last April, but then I saw something…see…this man I really care about…I could see his marriage was crumbling. It was breaking my heart, but I knew I had to stay and see what happened. And now that it’s completely over…I just sort of feel like I should stay close. Just in case…just to see if…” She turned, straddled his hips and set her hand on the thick beard. “Just to see if maybe I’ll get my shot at him. I love him,” she whispered, her lips close enough for him to feel the heat of them. “And I want him to know.” Finally her lips touched his.

It was like a jolt of electricity had shot through him, quickened his heart to life again and he sucked tenderly at her mouth. She pulled away slightly. “See, John Biebe, you are my girlhood wish. My hopes and dreams and all that crazy stuff. Donna got all that and she’s foolishly thrown it away. Maybe I’m not good enough for you. But maybe…just maybe I am.”

He cupped her face and pulled her to him, kissed her gently then settled his hands on her hips. John had lied. He did remember Amanda Pruett, remembered her from the first moment he saw her. Mandy sparkled. She glowed and people would turn just to watch her move. The fucking pub lit up the second she walked into it. He remembered everything about her, her smile, the way she teased and flirted, made a man feel like he was golden. He was new in town and there were plenty of options opened for him. Plenty of options.

He remembered Donna too. Not quite as exuberant as Mandy, but just as beautiful. There was even a point when he considered taking a run at both of them, see where he was when the dust settled. But Amanda Pruett left town. Simply disappeared and he did what any red blooded man would do, he moved toward his other, equally interesting and promising opportunity. And he won…he thought.

Massaging her hips and reveling in the feel of her body laying snug over his, John remembered other things. The gossip and the rumors. Long ago, one night after far too many beers, one of the men in the pub was boasting about paying Mandy for sex. Being the new cop in town and a bit too inebriated to think it all through, he simply arrested her right then and there. Of course, it didn’t hold and he did apologize, profusely in fact. She took it all in stride but his misguided action only served to fuel the fire. The rumor mills were in full swing from that day forward, even after she’d left.

After three whole months, Bailey returned alone to Mystery and John sat with him.

“Bailey, you know the rumors are just that, don’t you?”

“Of course I know.”

“So why did she leave? She’s gotta know I’ll continue to stand on her side if she ever gets arrested again. I know, I know the last time was tough. Fucking Barney was an asshole, accusing her of stealing money from his wallet just ’cause he didn’t pay her.”

Bailey’s eyes were sad but he grinned. “Hell, my daughter’s worth more than ten bucks anyway,” he joked.

“All the charges have been dropped; tell her she can come home, man.”

“Amanda is…busy.” It was all Bailey said and now John knew why. Mandy was busy in California fighting for her life. Could he feel any worse? Not likely.

He turned his head to meet with her lips again. Was it possible he’d made the wrong choice fifteen years ago? That he had another chance? Cognizant thought was getting tougher and tougher. There was a warm body snuggled over his and it had been more than six months since that had happened. He knew he should be thinking this through, but his tongue was drifting between her lips and she was sighing. Jesus, what could it hurt? He liked her. He’d always liked Amanda, always thought she was something special. So did every other man in Mystery. But she’d stayed in town this time. Stayed for him. What to do? Move with his animal urges? Or explore this whole thing a little further?

She must have sensed his hesitation. The way his hands had loosened at her hips, his tongue had slowly slid from her mouth.

“John, I did tell a lie,” she whispered and snuggled her face against his neck, her soft hand on his beard.

“Yeah, what did you lie about?” Again his heart rate was accelerating just from the sound of her voice.

“Your buddies don’t know I’m here. No one knows I’m here. I parked the snowmobile around the bend. It’s well hidden. So…” she sat up on his thighs. “If you don’t want to do this, it’s okay, I can leave. But if you do…no one ever has to know.”

His gut tightened and his brow knotted. He squeezed her hips tight in his hands. “Fuck, Mandy. You think I’d be ashamed? God sakes, woman. I’m just so fucked up right now. How fair is this to you, ay?”

“As fair as life gets for me, Sheriff. I had to come and take my shot, that’s all.” She attempted to stand but he was having none of that. Gripping her tightly, he rose right along with her, kissed her again hard and fast then took her hand and tugged her toward the bed.

Passion was in full swing, overwhelming, all encompassing. Their hands and mouths were everywhere as they tore at clothing, tossing garments wherever they fell. Finally free of everything, they both took a step back, panting and taking in every inch of each other, shaking and desperate to see what they’d only imagined for so long.

Amanda was spectacular. Perfect. Soft and round in all the right places, her fair skin flushed with excitement. John was so ready; so ready his fucking cock felt like it would split along the seams! He groaned loud and in the blink of an eye, like some choreographed dance, together they were back at it. They tumbled onto the old mattress with a bounce, gasping, grasping. Fuck, he wanted to feel all of her. It was like a gift, like winning the lottery. John Biebe could never just grab himself a quick, gratifying fuck…it wasn’t in his nature. This was different. He’d hit the goddamn jackpot! And if he didn’t slow it down, he’d be blowing it…big time. If lovely Amanda really did feel so much for him, he wanted to show her what he felt for her.

As he collected his wits, slowed his actions, he filed away that thought. He’d think about that later. Right now, he wanted to make love. Long, luscious, fully satisfying…love. When was the last time he’d done that?

He was over Amanda on the bed, looking down into those dark eyes and feeling special, feeling like he was all she needed or wanted that moment. It made him want to love her better than good. He was mesmerized. The way her thoughts floated to the surface of her expressions; that was the attraction…had always been the attraction. He nuzzled tender breasts and licked solid nipples and never lost track of the fact that it was Mandy in his grasp. Nursing there, images of her struggles in California drifted through his mind and his heart wanted to protect her, hold her safe forever. 

His hands wandered as his mouth savored. Curves, heat…and that scent. That calling scent of desire drifted to him and as much as he wanted to stay at her breasts, he just couldn’t. He sucked kisses down her body, reached the wild curls at her mound and moaned delight. Fuck, he needed this. He needed this more than he realized. Not just to get laid. To be with Amanda Pruett. How come he never realized it before? This was the woman he should have been with. Strong. Funny. Happy in the face of everything. A woman he could have and hold, love and fight with. It all flashed like a movie in front of him. Oh yeah, oh fucking yeah…he really did make a mistake fifteen years ago. If not for his boys, it would have been a severely unhappy mistake. Another thought to file away. No time for that. No time, no time.

His tongue had ventured between her thighs and it was as though his ears had suddenly awakened. He could hear not only her sighs and whimpers; he could hear her heartbeat, her thoughts, her needs. Driving a finger deep, his tongue sought the treasure, hard and hot and ready for him.

Determined to take her up slowly, he licked like a kitten, lapping slowly until he felt the heat rise from her flesh. Speeding the rhythm, John curled his finger, thrummed from the inside. Slowly, slowly, plenty of time, plenty of time. More than once he stopped, grinned when she cried out in disappointment then resumed. He needed to do it all in a way that made things right. Bringing her to climax was extraordinary. It had been a well thought out and intentional drive, but John wasn’t finished. He rose and dove for her mouth, sharing her flavor and sucking her lips.

“Jesus, Amanda,” he groaned against her lips as his fingers took over for round two. She trembled, shuddered, tried to relax for the second orgasm but it came fast. Like a rocket she shot, nearly knocking him off of her, but he was relentless. Unyielding. One more time. One more time. He could score one more time before moving on.

Moving on. The thought was pinned inside his brain. Moving on. When she screamed and cried his name, John slowed, slid his fingers from her searing path and cuddled her close. Gentling her, he realizing that never once in fifteen years of marriage had Donna permitted him to take her that far. That she would not give him the opportunity he had that moment with Amanda. The chance to love her with his tenderness. To connect in ways that had nothing to do with sex.

His cock wanted inside, but he would wait. His brain wanted the challenge of seeing if he could shoot her to the stars again, but he would wait. The sensations of her clinging tight to him, panting and kissing his neck were more important somehow. After all, he did say he wasn’t going to fuck her. She said the same. He was determined to make that all true. He had no intention of fucking Amanda. He was going to make love like a champ to her. She deserved it.

Her face was wet with tears and he kissed them away. “Shh, shh, baby. Shh.”

“I want you, John. I’m so afraid that this will be the only time we’re together, I want it all.”

“Not the only time, Mandy. Not nearly the only time. Shh,” he licked her lips then sucked again, savoring the taste of something special, something magic. Smooth as silk, he maneuvered and slid along her pulsing, silky path, deep, deep inside.

To any man, that was heaven. The place he belonged. And fully absorbed within her precious body was no different…only somehow better. The fit was perfect. The heat was intense and his needs were driven to the pinnacle. Bracing his knees as she locked her ankles over his back, John thrust even deeper, feeling the edge of his realities crumble and a new light shine. Mandy gasped, sucked a mark on his neck as he sweat, holding himself at that depth as long as he could. His body ached, his balls ached, his mind ached and it was all for her. The one he never thought would bring him there. It was a place he wasn’t expecting. Fuck. John wanted to make love to her because he loved her. Was that possible? His hips shuddered and he withdrew a little then plunged in again, as deep as possible, and there it was again! Maybe their bodies were just perfectly suited? Maybe it really was more? He needed to find out.

His journey to discovery rode beside his desperate body. He thrust and pummeled, attempted to grind himself deeper. All of it was a new mystery being disclosed. Why was he so intent on defending Mandy against the gossip? How many times had Donna argued with him about it? Now there was the only subject John had never, ever backed down on where his wife was concerned. He’d give her a house…give her space…even give her a fucking divorce if she wanted it. But Amanda Pruett had always been a subject off limits where Donna’s harpy-like opinions were concerned. Jesus, he thought as sweat dripped from his face and beard. How long had he been in love with her?

He was there; ready to explode into her when he suddenly wanted more, something else. He rose on his knees and lifted her legs high over his shoulders, pressing them higher and wider and watching her expression. “Won’t hurt you. Won’t ever hurt you. I just…I just…I gotta be able to see you…when…ah fuck!”

Three, four, five more hard thrusts and his balls locked tight against him then dropped, blowing his release in long, fiery shots as Amanda’s path tightened and convulsed around his straining cock. She cried out again…his name….her voice…perfection. It seemed to go on forever. How long had he waited to release like that? And how amazing it was, forcing his eyes to watch the ecstasy she was experiencing. That’s what John needed. That’s what he’d always needed and he dropped like a rock over her, rolling to take her with him, two nearly dead and totally spent lovers in a full embrace.

~*~

Again and again over the next few days, John loved Amanda. He loved her with his hands and his mouth, with his body and his mind. He couldn’t get enough of her. When the sun rose on the third day, he kissed her awake and grinned.

His hand soothed the redness on her cheek. “Guess I should fucking shave, huh?”

Her eyes twinkled. “Whatever you like, John.”

“Ah, whatever I like, ay? Can I tell you what I’d like?”

Amanda nodded.

“I’d like to go home. I’d like to go back to work and get back to my life.” He kissed her tenderly, his hands buried deep in her thick hair. “And I’d like you to do it all with me, baby.”

“What about the boys?”

“They can get their own girls,” he teased, knowing full well what her concerns were. “Amanda Pruett,” he cleared his throat, went all sheriff on her. “There’s nothing about you unsuitable for being around the sheriff and his sons. When the boys come home, we’ll all enjoy being together…unless you don’t want that.”

A tear glittered in her eye. “Don’t want that? Of course I want that. And you. But Donna’s house? Maybe we should rethink that,” she grinned and John dug a relentless tickle at her ribs. Slowly he lowered a kiss and she sighed.

“Let’s seal the deal,” John joked, reaching for his wallet. “How much for…let’s say…the rest of your life?

THE END